


Wasting Away

by arminda



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Comfort, Light Angst, One Shot, aint nobody want bitchass crackers, burrito blanket desmond is great, i liked writing this honestly, protect desmond miles, soft crying in the background, spoilers for the third game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminda/pseuds/arminda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond Miles was tired. This wasn’t your average, I’ve had a long day and I need a nap, kind of tired. Desmond was exhausted. All this saving the world bullshit was really starting to drain his energy. Granted, he had seen some shit, including the forced murder of his girlfriend, as well as the true story behind Subject 16. Not to mention one of his ancestors was a Templar. </p>
<p>Desmond barely slept, and what little sleep he got was usually interrupted with memories clashing in his mind. One night he would be fighting for his life in Rome, another he would be drowning in Jerusalem. He had taken to screaming in his sleep quite often. The nightmares ate away at his mind, and he felt as if he’d soon trip down the same path that Clay had. </p>
<p>He was afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasting Away

**Author's Note:**

> just a short fic concerning desmond and the weight on his shoulders

Desmond Miles was tired. This wasn’t your average, 'I’ve had a long day and I need a nap', kind of tired. Desmond was exhausted. All this saving the world bullshit was really starting to drain his energy. Granted, he had seen some shit, including the forced murder of his girlfriend, as well as the true story behind Subject 16. Not to mention one of his ancestors was a Templar. 

Desmond barely slept, and what little sleep he got was usually interrupted with memories clashing in his mind. One night he would be fighting for his life in Rome, another he would be drowning in Jerusalem. He had taken to screaming in his sleep quite often. The nightmares ate away at his mind, and he felt as if he’d soon trip down the same path that Clay had. 

He was afraid. The perpetual dark circles under his eyes were hints enough to his team members that he got little to no sleep. The shadows by his cheekbones were clearly visible. He was groggy whenever he came out of the animus, and always felt light headed. He occasionally lost his bearings on where he was and needed a refresher from time to time. 

He was afraid of everything to come. What if he couldn’t find a way to set everything right? What if he was too slow? What if he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was? He was afraid that he wasn’t going to get out of this alive. Most importantly, he was afraid that he would not be able to protect his team mates, who had quickly become his family. Not to mention, he was afraid of disappointing his own father. 

Day in and day out, he felt like he was being used. He was being jostled around, expected to slave in the animus all day until he nearly passed out. He would take a small rest, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling for hours on end until the rest of the crew woke up. They asked him how he slept; he didn’t. He lied in hopes that they wouldn’t worry. Yet sometimes, he really hoped that they would. 

They saw through the lies, but said nothing., until one day. Desmond stumbled out of the animus with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He coughed as his stomach lurched, and fell to his knees, retching. Since he hadn’t eaten much, he sat there, helplessly trying to clear his already empty stomach, tears streaming from his eyes. 

He coughed up bile, and sniffed. He looked up at Shaun, Rebecca and his father as they ran over to help. He closed his eyes, and fell over. 

When he awoke, he found himself lying on a rather comfy pile of blankets. He had never seen them before, and figured one of the team had gone out and bought them, most likely his father. He struggled to unwrap himself from his blanket cocoon and tried to lean up. 

“No, no, no!” Shaun walked over carrying a moist towel, tutting. “Just stay down, yeah?” 

“How long have I been out?” Desmond mumbled. 

“‘Bout 15 hours.” Rebecca called from around the corner. “Your dad figured you’d get cold, so he went out to buy you some more comfy blankets.” 

“Blankets…” Desmond paused. “15 hours?” He sputtered. He rubbed his eyes and tried to roll over onto his stomach to stand up. 

“What part about stay down do you not understand?” Shaun huffed and pushed Desmond down, placing a the warm towel on his head. “Just let your body rest.” 

“We have stuff to get done here!” Desmond raised his voice.

“Well we can’t get anything done if you’re dead.” Shaun started to walk away. “Once you get some proper meals and rest, you can go back in.” 

Desmond grumbled and pulled a blanket up to his nose. Despite his stomach attempting to clear itself the other day, Desmond was incredibly hungry. Whatever remains of that day’s lunch was long gone, and his empty stomach growled, echoing quietly around him. 

“Hungry, are we?” Shaun turned around and tapped the side of his nose. “Your dad went out to get some food from a nearby town not long before you woke up. He should be back in an hour or so. Until then, it’d do you good to rest.” 

“I hope it’s not some bitchass crackers.” Desmond muttered. He was in the mood for real food, not that crap that they fed you when they think your stomach can’t handle anything more flavorful than a piece of toast. He figured he had enough time to let his stomach settle enough anyway. 

“Picky, picky.” Shaun sat down in Rebecca’s chair in the corner and mindlessly browsed through his emails. 

Desmond huffed angrily again, wondering how he was supposed to sleep with his stomach rumbling in his ears. He rolled over onto his side, and found it was easier than he thought. Before he knew it, he was out like a light, drifting into the black, dreamless void. 

Desmond was falling. What had he jumped off of? He didn’t remember. He was falling; through the clouds, through the stars. He passed through a million worlds, each with a different sky. He was falling slowly, he could see himself falling next to him. Suddenly, he stopped. He was submerged in what he thought was water. He flailed, and plugged his nose, but soon discovered that he wasn’t drowning. The stars reflected in his eyes, as he floated through space. He passed through what he could only assume was the Milky Way. He was nowhere and yet he was everywhere. He smiled. He stretched out his arms on either side of him, and felt invisible wings on his back flap. He rolled over onto his stomach, and flew. 

Something was hitting him. The stars, he thought. Perhaps he was knocking into the stars. No, this wasn’t the touch of stardust. Someone was tapping him. Calling his name. It sounded so far away. It traveled from ear to ear. The noise was right in front of him. Somebody grasped his shoulder, and Desmond woke with a start. 

“Have a good sleep?” Rebecca smiled. “Your dad’s back. Figured you might want some dinner.” 

“Dinner…?” Desmond replied groggily. 

“You were only out for about three hours this time.” 

“Geez…” Desmond rubbed his head. 

Rebecca stared for a second at Desmond’s sleep deprived face and quickly looked away. “Anyway, food’s on the table.” She jerked a thumb behind her. “We figured we’d wait until you woke up before we start, but Shaun got hungry and told me to wake you.” 

Shaun retorted that the accusation wasn’t true, but Desmond was hardly paying attention. He was still lost in his dream world, miles away. For once, he had had a truly peaceful dream. He wished that he could sleep for days on end. But that would entail a coma, and he wasn’t up for that again. 

“What’s there for food?” He snapped back to his senses. 

“Glad to see you’re awake, son. Ordered takeout from this popular steakhouse in town.” William finally made an appearance. He was carrying a set of paper plates to the table and set them by a variety of styrofoam boxes. “Hopefully it hasn’t cooled off too much.” 

“He’s also got some of those crackers if you aren’t up to real food.” Shaun took a seat at the makeshift table. 

Desmond slowly got up, with some assistance from Rebecca and weakly made his way to the table, draping a blanket around his neck like a cape. He plopped down onto an odd chair and sighed heavily. Although he just woke up, the walk felt like it had drained all his energy. He figured that some food in his belly might help him recover his strength. 

“Well, dig in.” William called from the end of the table. 

You didn't have to tell Desmond twice. He eagerly leaned for a box, and spooned some of its various contents onto his place. By the time he was finished serving himself, no inch of his plate was left uncovered. 

“You sure you’re stomach’s alright handling all of that?” Rebecca asked as she chewed her salad carefully. “I thought we should get something easier to swallow, but Shaun insisted on something fancy.” 

Once again, Shaun denied this statement, through a mouthful of potatoes. 

“That guy hardly eats anything.” Rebecca gossiped quietly. “He’s always skipping meals, sitting all hunched over in the corner over there.” 

Desmond frowned, offended. Oh sure, they noticed when Shaun didn’t eat, but what about him? Did they not see, or did they just not care? Perhaps she didn’t want to start something between Desmond and his dad, but it still stung slightly nonetheless. 

Desmond, to prove a point, rubbed at his dark rimmed eyes tiredly and yawned. He placed a hand on his stomach and stared at the food before him.

“Go on son.” William pointed at him with a fork. “Dig in. Unless you want to start with some crackers.” 

There it was. It to him more like a command rather than a voice of concern. Did anybody really care? 

“Your dad’s right.” Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed your eating and sleeping patterns. You’ve got to get some food in your stomach, or else you might risk passing out again. 

Desmond was somewhat relieved. Now the only person left to comment was… 

“It’s definitely not good for you to be running on as little nutrients as you are.” Shaun educated. “Especially not with all the time in the animus. You don’t have to worry about getting any fatter, Desmond.” He bit into a carrot and took a sip of water, clearing his throat. Desmond growled lowly, and Rebecca shot Shaun and angry look. “Er, I mean. We all see the stress your body’s going through, and what little sleep you get. You’ve got to keep your body running properly, you know.”

At least they finally told him that they cared. That was really all he needed to hear. Of course simple comfort wouldn’t put him to sleep right away, nor would it fill those empty stomachs from weeks ago. But, at least they cared. 

He smiled to himself, and carefully bit into a rib. He slowly picked the bone clean and placed it to the side. He paused, hoping that he wouldn’t need to puke again. Everyone else paused too, staring intently at him. 

“How do you feel?” William leaned closer to the edge of the table.

Desmond honestly didn’t know. For the most part, he felt like he didn’t want any crackers. It almost felt like he hadn’t eaten the meat at all. He shifted in his seat and crossed his legs slightly. He tensed when he felt his stomach lurch, but soon relaxed when it was simply a signal of hunger, desperately trying to get him to eat more. He picked up another bone and ate significantly faster than the last time. 

“I guess that answers that question.” Shaun returned to eating, but couldn’t hide the small smile on his face. 

Rebecca patted Desmond on the back lightly, and William breathed a sigh of relief. 

The next half hour or so was filled with idle conversation, and eating. Desmond solely partook in eating to his heart’s content. He leaned over for seconds, and then a smaller portion for thirds. Everyone had stopped eating long ago, but he continued. He couldn’t remember the last time he had the appetite to eat as much as today. He figured his body had just about enough with his bullshit and refused to let him stop until he was satisfied. 

He began to slow down and exhaled contentedly, pushing his empty plate away. He sunk lower into his seat and smiled. 

“Wow.” Shaun chuckled. “Who knew you were able to pack away so much? Well, I did.” Once again, Rebecca glared at Shaun, who quickly fell silent. 

“Thanks, dad.” Desmond mumbled sleepily. 

“Anytime.” His dad choked out. “No more animus sessions today. You need to let the food go down, and most importantly, you need to rest and recover.” 

Desmond could care less. He knew the future of humankind was at stake, and he knew that the date of peril was approaching fast. At the same time, he knew that he had time. He felt like Connor was so close to the key, and believed that he would find the answers in no time. 

He had time. 

Everyone got up and pushed in their makeshift chairs. Desmond fumbled out of his seat. The fullness gave way to the sensation of being exhausted. However, this wasn’t the same exhaustion he felt day in and day out. This was different. This was the feeling that, he had done something worthwhile. He was part of something big. He was a hero in the making. 

No, this was definitely a good tired. He shuffled over to his awkward bed, not far from his companions and flopped down gently. He yawned and pulled a bunch of blankets over to cover him. He smiled, and snuggled deeper into the blankets, filling each space with a homely warmth. 

“Sleep well, Desmond. You’ve earned it.” Rebecca smiled. 

“Don’t worry, son. We’ll be keeping a closer eye on you from now on. Making sure you get enough sleep and enough food.” 

Shaun nodded sheepishly and offered another blanket. Desmond accepted eagerly and bunched it up to make a comfy pillow under his head. He breathed in deeply and exhaled, relaxing each muscle in his body. 

He smiled, and closed his eyes, floating off into his peaceful dreamland. He soared through the changing skies with ease. 

“He’s going to do great things.” Rebecca mused. “Desmond Miles...He’s going to save us all.” 

“He has brought us to the end.” William muttered softly, and turned around, briskly walking away, wiping at his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> idk man i wrote this in like 3 hours while listening to 8tracks
> 
> was in the writing mood i guess!!
> 
> hope you enjoyed nonetheless!! 
> 
> ((i take requests and suggestions man writing is fun,,,))


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